The Pregnancy
by fangirl1982
Summary: Set in season 9, after Charlotte announces her pregnancy. Canon's a bit off, but nothing too obvious. J/G fic. Friendship and romance. I don't own anything, and as I'm an impovrished student, it's not worth suing me over.
1. Chapter 1

_Hey, guys! The season 9 canon is a little rearranged in terms of Spence's return and Bianca's arrival, but hopefully not to noticeable. Set following Charlotte's announcement of her pregnancy with Zach._

Gabrielle Jaeger parked her car on the driveway of her subordinate, Dan Goldman, and walked up the drive. Dan had been complaining for the second she had started work at All Saints Western General as Nursing Unit Manager a few weeks ago about the fact he was always working weekends. Gabrielle had taken a look at the roster history; Dan _had_ been working an awful lot of weekends. She wondered if he had pissed off one of her predecessors. God knew there had been enough of them; she had taken this job partly out of interest about the fact the position – a plum position in a great hospital – went unanswered week after week. Once she got there, she understood why; the ED HoD, Frank Campion, was a difficult man to get along with. Gabrielle found it easy enough – it was no harder than getting along with her father or brothers – but it hadn't taken her long to understand why the ED had gone through so many NUMs in such a short period of time. He was a perfectionist, short-tempered, quick to hand out insults and slow to reward compliments. But he was also a brilliant physician who cared about patients and staff alike, and Gabrielle had a feeling that they would end up getting along very well – once he figured out that she wasn't a stupid country girl that he could walk all over.

First thing was first, she had fixed up the mess Dan – who had been acting NUM in between Nelson Curtin quitting and her taking up the position – had made of the rosters. It didn't surprise her that he had gotten stuck with so many weekend shifts; he had no idea how to balance a roster, and as a result, he got stuck with all the shitty shifts. She had done a roster which gave all her staff one weekend off in three; none of them could really complain about that, although she was sure that someone _would_. It had been a month and she had already well and truly learnt that people would complain about _anything_ to their superiors.

She sighed. It was a far cry from the small country hospital that she had come from, where she was friends with everyone. Here, people saw her as a boss. She wasn't someone they could pal around with. There were exception, of course – Charlotte Beaumont was one, a doctor who didn't look down on nurses the way so many of them did – but she felt isolated a lot, which was kind of ironic, given she had gone from a small farming community to a major hospital in the country's most populous city.

Well, maybe doing this for Dan – and delivering the news personally, since she found out that she lived so close to him – would make him more friendly towards her.

She knocked on the door. There was no answer, so she knocked again. She heard footsteps on the other side of the door, and the sound of several locks being undone. That struck her as amusing and a little sad at the same time; she hadn't understood the need for multiple locks until she had come to Sydney. She _still_ didn't see the need for multiple locks.

Dan's housemate Jack Quade – a surgeon at All Saints who Gabrielle knew in passing – opened the door. He cocked his head when he saw Gabrielle; he had only had a few interaction with the attractive young nurse. Given his history, he thought it was best to steer clear of any woman who was under forty and holding the ED NUM's position. He had hardly expected her to show up on her doorstep. "Yeah?" he asked.

Gabrielle tried not to be taken aback by Jack's rudeness. Maybe he'd been in the middle of something; it wasn't like he was expecting her. It was just that she had found people in Sydney so _rude_ compared to the country friendliness that she was used to. "I came to let Dan know I've given him a weekend off like he asked," she said, holding up the clipboard that the roster was attached to helplessly.

"He's gone to his parent's place for a few days," Jack said shortly. "Was there anything else?"

"Uh, no," she said, flustered. She had heard Jack liked to pursue anything in a skirt – especially if that skirt was holding the position of ED NUM – but she hadn't expected him to be this rude. She stared at him intently for a few seconds, and recognised the smell of alcohol. Looking closer, she realised he was leaning against the doorframe as if standing upright was more trouble than he cared for. "Are you _drunk_?" she asked, scandalised because it was still the afternoon - late afternoon, but afternoon nonetheless – although she really _shouldn't_ be surprised after all the years she had spent with her ex-boyfriend, a problem drinker. _Problem drinker?_ Gabrielle thought bitterly. Try raging alcoholic. And low-life cheating scum. It still hurt to think about it, and seeing Jack drunk before the sun had gone down made her think about it.

"That's none of your business," Jack said shortly. He went to close the door on her, but she shot her foot in it. He shut it anyway, and was surprised to discover it didn't have the impact it should have. Which was a good thing, but nonetheless – "You always wear steel-caps?" he asked.

"Farm girl, remember? You always slam the door on people's feet?"

"Returning the favour on my step-mum," he said. Sighing, he opened the door again. "What do you want?" he asked resignedly.

"What you're doing getting drunk on your own in the afternoon would be a good start," she said. She realised that she barely knew him, and thought that maybe he would rather be with someone who _did_. She thought about who he was pally with. "You want me to call Charlotte?" she asked.

Jack's eyed glittered dangerously, and Gabrielle noticed that they were a steel-grey colour, hard and cold. "I have enough contacts in Sydney to see you back at whatever nothing town you came from," he threatened, and Gabrielle immediately understood why he didn't want Charlotte to be called – and why he was drinking alone in the afternoon. He had taken the news of Charlotte's pregnancy badly.

She had heard all about it, of course. It had been the biggest to hit the hospital in some time, and people had made a point to come up to her just to tell her about it. Jack had been dating – although 'dating' was probably too strong a word for it – Charlotte's best friend, Terri Sullivan, who Gabrielle knew first-hand to be something of a legend at All Saints. When Terri had dumped him, and Charlotte – a supposed dyed-in-the-wool lesbian – had been dumped by _her_ girlfriend the same day, the two had ended up very drunk and very much in bed together. The result had been a baby that Charlotte had miscarried around three months.

Gabrielle had heard conflicting stories about how Jack had taken the miscarriage. Some said he had been relieved to wriggle out of the responsibility and only disappointed that it hadn't happened _before_ he had confessed to Terri and thereby ruined any chance they had of reconciliation; others said he had taken it very hard, as hard as you would have expected a man to take an actual living child and not just a three-month-old foetus. Seeing him now, Gabrielle was inclined to believed the truth was closer to the latter. He had acted all happy for Charlotte earlier today when he had heard about her pregnancy, even joked about having nothing to do with it – but he must have been dying inside.

"Hey! What are you doing?" Jack demanded when Gabrielle pushed past him into the house, using both the element of surprise and the fact Jack wasn't exactly at his most agile.

"Keeping you company," Gabrielle said. "If you're going to drink, you shouldn't drink alone. If nothing else, I'll make sure you don't hit your head on something when you pass out."

Jack glared at her, flabbergasted by her audacity. "Get out," he said.

"You could make me... or you could get me a drink," Gabrielle said.

Jack glowered at her. _Smart-ass bitch_, he thought. Then he saw the look in her eyes and decided she wasn't worth bothering with. Hell, maybe he could even have a bit of fun with her. He grinned at the thought of either creeping her out with endless hit-ons, on making her feel intellectually inferior. And she'd only have herself to blame for forcing her way into the house. "What do you want?" he asked.

"Whatcha got?"

"There's beer and mixers in the fridge, take a look at the bar if you want any spirits," he said.

"I think I'll stick with a beer." She didn't like the way spirits went to her head so quickly. Jack got her a beer out of the fridge and then topped up his own vodka and lemonade. "You can handle that?" she asked, seeing how much he poured it.

"It's fine."

"I hear you and vodka don't mix too well," she teased. He sent her a death-glare, and she blanched, realising her mistake. "Sorry," she said. "I didn't meant that the way it came out."

He raked his hand through his hair. "I know you didn't," he said. "I'm just – tired."

She nodded sympathetically, not sure what she was supposed to that. She knew he meant that he was tired on acting like his emotions ran no more complex than being happy for a friend. And tired of people's attitude that he hadn't cared when Charlotte had miscarried. She didn't say anything when he downed the glass in a few seconds and poured himself another."Sit," she said, directing him to the couch. "Before you lose balance and fall on your face."

Obediently, Jack went to the couch. "I hate this couch," he complained. "Dan buys furniture like a boy."

Gabrielle laughed at that. The couch _did_ look kind of ratty. "I suppose you don't need much for playstation marathons," she said. "I take it you miss your old place?" she asked.

"I thought about dragging everything onto the lawn and setting fire to it," Jack said, giggling at the irony. "I _really_ hated my ex, didn't want anything she'd touched around."

"This would be Deanna?" Gabrielle asked. Jack nodded. "I heard about her."

"Yeah?" Jack asked. "Like what?" He saw the look on Gabrielle's face, and laughed in spite of himself. "You don't need to be nice around me. I hate her guts just as much as anyone else. She screwed me over the worst." Well, maybe not as badly as Frank, whose heart attack she helped bring about, or Nelson, whose mental break down she helped speed up, but he'd been publicly humiliated and had had his heart broken, that was pretty damn bad. He scowled, remembering.

"I heard that she was a manipulative tramp who was far better at being a first-class bitch than she was a nurse – and _bitch_ was the nicest word people used. Cate compared her to Eva Braun. I couldn't resist telling her that Eva Braun may have been a twit with appalling taste when it came to men, but she wasn't evil per se."

Jack laughed at that. "You don't strike me as the type who knows who Eva Braun was."

"You mean the ignorant country hick type who knows everything about tractors and sheep and nothing about history?" Gabrielle asked. Jack nodded sheepishly, caught out at putting stock in stupid stereotypes. "I read a lot growing up."

"Me , too. I was lonely a lot. At least without my looks."

Gabrielle had to laugh at that despite herself. "You, lonely?" she asked. I bet you had everything you wanted." Looks, intelligence, growing up in a city like Sydney he would have been _surrounded_ by friends – and he thought he had been lonely? _Ha, try living on a hundred-thousand-acre farm_.

Jack's eyes glittered at that, the same dangerous look that he had given her when she had suggested she call Charlotte. "You have no idea what it's like to be me," he said. "You have _no idea_ what it's like to grow up in a household of men who think the only honourable occupation out there in manual labour, and wanting to do something with your brain is just being a snob. Or what it's like to grow up with a step-mother who's been cheated on practically every day of her life and doesn't have the guts to confront her husband so she takes it out on her step-son. Or – " he stopped himself before he blurted out his most hideous secret, and mentally berated himself for giving away so much of himself as it was.

Gabrielle, thankgod, misunderstood him. "To have no-one believe that you could possibly be hurting over a miscarriage – especially when it was the result of a one-nighter that ruined your relationship," she said. She found herself thinking about her ex-boyfriend, Steve. Their relationship had come to a screeching halt when she had found out that Steve had cheated on het with her best friend. In a way, it wasn't much different to how Jack and Terri's reconciliation had ended. But she couldn't see Steve being so gutted over a miscarriage. She couldn't see Steve ever caring about the pregnancy. Hell, she couldn't see Steve owning up to the pregnancy if he had known, like Jack had, that the consequence would be the end of their relationship.

She found herself having a sudden surge of respect for Jack.

His face lost the hard, dangerous edge to it, and his eyes seemed to physically soften in front of her gaze. "Yeah," he said softly.

"It must've been hard," she said sympathetically.

"There was one nurse – Jess – she didn't know I overheard her, but she said something that really wanted to make me smack her – and I had nearly a foot and, like, thirty kilos on the girl. Crap about me being relieved. How can you say something so heartless when you know the person is still around?" he asked, and Gabrielle understood that Jack's unhealed grief lay not only in the miscarriage itself, but in having so many people think that he had been relieved. "Even Charlotte didn't want anything to do with me for a while. Ironically enough, it was Terri who got her to let me in," he added ruefully.

Gabrielle remembered how once upon a time, she had thought about her and Steve getting married and having a baby. When she had realised the kind of man he was – not the sort you wanted fathering your children – she had felt a deep sense of loss that that family would never be hers. If she had felt that about children that had never been conceived, just an abstract idea, then she couldn't fathom how Jack – let alone Charlotte – must have felt over the miscarriage. And at least Charlotte had enjoyed – if that was the right word – the benefit of an outpouring of sympathy. Jack had gotten nothing; he'd gotten less than nothing. _Nothing_ would have been indifference; Jack got the public opinion that he was relieved at having dodged a bullet.

No wonder he had all this repressed grief inside him. No wonder he was skulking around the house, drinking alone, after an emotionally exhausting day of pretending to be nothing but happy for Charlotte when there was actually a big part of him that couldn't stop thinking about his own child. "Did you find out what sex it was?" she asked.

Jack nodded. "A girl. It was a girl. Funnily enough, whenever I thought about having kids – which I admit, wasn't often – I always imagined having a daughter. I don't know why. I guess I've just always gotten on better with females. I found out I had a sister later that year, actually. I had a lot of people point that out, like it was some kind of trade where I got the better deal – a kid sister who I could have a fully-formed adult relationship with for a brat that would have driven me batty for twenty years. But – it shouldn't have been a trade. I should have been able to have both. _I should have been able to have both_."

His voice broke at that, thinking about Charlotte's miscarriage and the deep sense of loss he had felt and the fact that not only had almost no-one cared, but most people had figured he was _relieved_ – including Charlotte. "It wasn't fair," he said, finding himself crying into Gabrielle's shoulder – quite literally. "It wasn't fair," he said as she ran her fingers through his hair, drawing him close against her. She could feel his tears on her skin, dripping through her shirt, and it was a strange experience for her. Strange – and somewhat nurturing. It was her job to care about people who were in pain – both physically and emotionally – but this was something else entirely. Jack wasn't her patient, but he wasn't her friend, either. She knew him purely on a professional basis, and yet here and now, she felt very close to him, like she was the only one in the world who had some understanding of what he was going through – and that included Charlotte, the mother of his child.

"Let it out," she said softly, knowing that there was no point in telling him that it would be alright. He was crying into her shoulder – her, who was all but a stranger to him, yet the only person who had twigged that maybe he wasn't as happy for Charlotte as he was letting on – because it _wasn't_ alright. It hadn't been alright since Charlotte had miscarried, and now he was having to deal with the fact that Charlotte would go on to have her own child – and he wouldn't, not yet. The bond he had expected to share with Charlotte was now hers to share with Spence – if he ever deigned to come back from Somalia. "Just let it out."

For several minutes, he cried into her shoulder and she held him protectively, keeping one arm around his back in a comforting hug and using her free hand to stroke the back of his head. Finally, he pulled his head away. "Sorry," he sniffled. "I'm not usually such a baby."

He shifted awkwardly, and suddenly she was aware of how big and strong he was; he had seemed so much smaller when he had been crying in her arms. "You're allowed to be," she said. "What you went through – no-one should have no go through that. It's against the laws of nature for a parent to lose a child, regardless of the circumstances. And to have people think what they did – " she reached out and stroked his tear-stained cheek gently. "I think you would have made a great dad," she said.

He sniffled again. "You don't know me."

"I know anyone as sensitive to loss as you is bound to make a great dad," she said. "Why don't you talk about it, let it out? I'm a good listener?"

So Gabrielle stayed up with Jack and he talked about his night with Charlotte and how he had regretted it deeply and been pissed off at Charlotte when she had told him she was pregnant, and it how it had made him wonder if he had brought it on himself karmically when she had miscarried. How he had been too in love with Terri – although love, he realised, wasn't really the right word for someone he had barely known and who he was so incompatible with, _infatuated_ was more correct – to appreciate the gift Charlotte was offering her; resenting her instead. All those moments he had spent resenting her, worrying that Terri would find out and that would be the end of their reconciliation when he could have been with Charlotte and their child. The repressed guilt and grief and anger that he felt over it all that he had stuffed down inside him but that he couldn't keep down upon learning of Charlotte's new pregnancy; how Goddamn _hard_ it was to smile and hug her and act like it wasn't hurting like hell to think of her first pregnancy...

Gabrielle stayed with him until he fell asleep, and retrieved a blanket from the linen closet to drape over him. She left him sound – if somewhat drunkenly – asleep on the couch, hoping that he had let out some of his repressed feelings and that he could finally start to heal.

Jack caught up with her two days later. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked down at his feet in embarrassment. "I just wanted to thank you for, uh, when you came over," he said. "I was a bit of a mess," he added with a rueful smile.

"It's OK," she said. "I was just glad I was there. My, uh, ex was, ah – uh – problem drinker, I'm well aware of how morose people can get when they're feeling sorry for themselves and drinking alone."

There was a story there, Jack realised. She had been reluctant to talk about her ex and at the same time wanting to explain. He wondered what had happened to make him her ex and if she was the reason she was in Sydney. He found himself struck by the urge to have one-on-one time with her that didn't involve him sobbing like a baby – this despite the fact that he had resolved to not get personally involved on _any _level with the ED NUM – and returning the favour of confidante. "Let me take you out for dinner," he found himself blurting out.

"I'm sorry?" Gabrielle asked. She had been half-expecting Jack to ask her out since she had started at All Saints – half the staff had warned her about him, said he had a particular penchant for the ED NUM – but not like this, not awkward and blurted out and after a very intimate night between them – although no doubt not the sort of intimacy he was used to.

"Let me take you out to dinner. I know this great Thai place and I want to repay you for what you did for me."

"Oh, Jack. You don't have to do that. I appreciate the offer, though."

"No, please, I insist. I won't feel good about it until I do. And I won't hit on you, if that's what you're worried about. I'm hardly in the frame of mind for a relationship right now," he pointed out.

Gabrielle found herself feeling a fraction of disappointment at that. It wasn't that she _wanted_ Jack to hit on her – she just wanted to know that he found her attractive - attractive enough that he might hit on her in different circumstances. Say, if he _wasn't_ in a confused emotional state and he _didn't_ have a history of dating the women in her position. Although come to think of it – she wasn't exactly in the healthiest frame of mind when it came to men and relationships herself right now – so maybe what Jack was offering was exactly what she needed. "Sure," she agreed. "Sounds great."

3


	2. Chapter 2

"I've had a great night," Gabrielle said. _Great_ didn't seem the right word for it. Not only was Jack intelligent and funny with excellent taste when it came to dining out, but he had been as good as his word and hadn't hit on her all night. She was almost disappointed. "I haven't been out since I got here."

"Well, that's just sad," Jack said. "I've lived here all my life. You're missing out on a lot. It's an amazing city, I can't imagine living anywhere else, let alone -" he stopped abruptly, realising he was about to put his foot in it – that actually, he was too late.

"Let alone a hick country town that doesn't have a main street, let alone such a cosmopolitan array of cuisines?" Gabrielle offered. Jack shoved his hands into his pants in much the same way he had when he had come to her after the night he had spent crying in her arms – guilty and embarrassed. It was actually kind of cute. "It doesn't matter. Lots of people think like that. At least you have the decency to look embarrassed. But there's a lot to like about country life. There's a niceness and familiarity that you don't get here – people _know_ you. I miss that. There's so many people there, but I don't really know anyone."

Jack thought about that. He had always been a bit lonely, but he had chalked that up to this unhappy childhood. He knew his social skills weren't amazing and that he shied away from emotional intimacy. He probably wouldn't have been any better in a country town like what Gabrielle was describing, but still – "Sounds nice," he said.

Gabrielle was surprised at how wistful he sounded. She would have thought that someone who was such a self-described city boy as Jack would commit so much as a passing thought to the positives that country life had to offer. "And I miss the _freshness_ of the food," she said. "There's nothing quite like strawberries – any fruit and veges, actually, but I'm a sucker for strawberries – which have been picked a few hours ago. The crap they sell at Woolies is, well – crap."

Jack laughed at that. "I may actually be able to help you on that," he said. "There's a grower's market I go to whenever my roster allows me. It's not as good as a few hours, but it's under twenty-four. I'll do you a trade."

"What?"

"I'll give you the address and you pick up a few things for me next time you're there. It's not exactly easy for a trauma surgeon to get Saturday or Sunday mornings off."

Gabrielle laughed at that. "Damn all those drunks getting into accidents and preventing you from getting your strawberries," she said. "It's a deal." There was a slight breeze, and Gabrielle shivered a little.

"Cold?" Jack asked.

"It will pass. I had this idea that Sydney would be so much warmer for being, oh, about three hours' drive closer to the equator. I thought Sydney was supposed to have beautiful weather."

"It does – but it's still winter. Here," he said, shrugging off his jacket.

"Jack, I can't – "

"Don't worry about it. I _am_ actually used to Sydney winters."

Gabrielle wrapped the jacket around her. Though Jack was tall, she wasn't exactly a small woman herself, so the jacket wasn't that much too big for her. And it smelled like him – soap and deodorant. A pleasant change to the smell of sweat, whiskey and stale beer that her ex routinely smelled off. She hugged the jacket around her and inhaled deeply. "Sorry, what was that?" Jack asked.

Gabrielle flushed with embarrassment. "I, uh – was just thinking that your jacket smells nicer than my ex's. He drank a lot," she explained.

"Ah," Jack said knowingly. "My dad's an alcoholic – or at least, everyone but him thinks he is. Sometimes I think there's a point when the smell of alcohol just doesn't come out."

He spoke these words scathingly, and Gabrielle sensed some serious undercurrents. She remembered what he had said about his step-mother hating him. "You don't think much of him, do you?" she asked.

"Nope. I don't know how much the booze played a part, but he slept with anyone who would have him. Really, he was one of those men who should never have married. There's nothing wrong with playing around, but if you're going to make a commitment like marriage – " Jack shrugged, and it was clear that he thought marriage _was_ a commitment.

"It's not often you hear a comment like that from a surgeon," Gabrielle said.

"Before I'm a surgeon, I'm a guy who's seen what infidelity does to everyone in the household. It's not something I would wish on anyone, and it's certainly not something I would _inflict_ on someone."

"I take it you're not the type who would marry a woman that you got pregnant, then?" she half asked, half-teased. Actually, she had taken a peek at his personnel file and it hadn't taken much to work out that his father and step-mother's marriage had happen less than six months before his older brother had been born.

"God, no. Hell, the only woman I ever asked to marry me I knew wasn't likely to ever have kids – it's a long story," he added when he saw the look on Gabrielle's face. It had only been two years ago that he had asked Terri to marry him but it felt so long ago. He certainly knew he was years older emotionally than he had been when it had seemed like the worst thing that could ever happen was a woman fifteen years older than him that he wasn't all that compatible with not loving him back – if it had even been _love_ that he felt, not just infatuation. He shook his head, clearing it of the cobwebs of the past.

"I can't imagine Charlotte agreeing to marry you anyway," Gabrielle said, wondering if maybe she had overstepped the mark, teasing about a thing like that.

"No, I can't," Jack agreed. "Would ruin all her independent-woman cred," he said. "Not to mention all her I-am-lesbian-hear-me-roar cred. Spence is going to have quite a time of it."

"You sound like you don't exactly envy him."

"Charlotte and I are fairly in tune with each other. Part of it's the baby, but a lot of it is just to do with our personalities. I haven't struggled with my sexual identity like she has – " actually, he had, but that wasn't something he was about to get into with Gabrielle " – but I sort of understand what she's been through and I don't think Spence does. And I think Somalia is more important to him than she is – or their baby," he added. He realised how presumptuous he sounded, and said, "Sorry, that's not my place to say. Please don't repeat it to anyway."

"I won't. You're secret's safe with me." And it felt kind of nice to share a confidence with Jack – even if he hadn't intended to.

She checked her watched. It was ten. "You need to be somewhere?" Jack asked.

"No... I was actually thinking that I've had a wonderful time and I don't want it to end."

"Then tell me, farmgirl – you ever been to the harbour?" Gabrielle shook her head, and Jack laughed good-naturedly. "Bloody hell, _tourists_ make more of an effort than you have. C'mon, I'll take you. There's a place on the foreshore I know that you get a really pretty view."

He hadn't been kidding. "I can't believe I haven't been here yet," she mused when she saw just how pretty it was. Several months she'd been here now and she hadn't bothered to come see one of the most iconic landmarks in the country. "How'd you find this place?" she asked.

"Spent most of my childhood discovering the city. I actually made money when I was at uni as a tour guide."

"You're kidding."

"Nope. I spent my whole life here and took every opportunity I could to get out of the house and go somewhere. Got a bit rusty the last few years, but anything that was here before oh-four and I'll probably be familiar with it."

He sounded almost as though he were bragging, and Gabrielle found that oddly enchanting. Here was a guy who had cruised through uni on a scholarship and high-distinctions (hey, if she was going to peruse his personnel file, she may as well be thorough) – and here he was, pleased as punch over his thorough knowledge of Sydney. "You have to give me some tips of where to go and what to see," she said.

"If you want. You'll have to wait until I have a weekend free, though."

She hadn't meant to ask him to be her tour guide, and she opened her mouth to say so. Then she shut it. If that's what he had assumed – and since he hadn't sounded particularly put out having assumed that's what she had meant – then why should she correct him? "Sounds good," she said.

An hour later, Jack dropped her home. "Thanks for the great night," he said.

Needless to say, she was surprised at that. "_I_ was about to say that to _you_," she said. "I'm not sure what I'm being thanked for, since you picked the restaurant, you paid for it _and_ you showed me the sights." Well, _a_ sight, but it had been a pretty spectacular one, so Gabrielle figured it was unjust to allocate it the same value as another single sight.

"Yeah – but you got me out of the house. I don't go out much, not since – " Jack shrugged. He had spoken briefly about his disastrous relationship with Deanna. Gabrielle had gathered enough to know not to press. It was clear that while he wasn't on the rebound, he was still hurting. "Anyway, it was nice to get out and actually do something. Dan's a bad influence on me, I end up playing far too much playstation."

"I know what you mean," she said, and she found herself telling Jack, "my ex cheated on me. I haven't dated since. It was nice to get out and do something fun without –"

"The pressure of being on a date?" Jack asked.

"Exactly."

"Then – thanks for a great non-date," Jack said, and leaned in slightly so he could kiss Gabrielle on the cheek. "I'll see you around the hospital, OK?" Gabrielle nodded, and she watched Jack walk down the drive and get into his car. It was just a shame he had such a shitty car, she thought. He would be the absolute perfect catch if it wasn't for that.

She realised she had been thinking of Jack in quasi-romantic terms and laughed at herself. She had had such a fantastic night _because_ she hadn't thought of him romantically – and _he_ hadn't thought of _her_ romantically. There had never been a time with Steve where she hadn't been aware of his romantic – no _sexual_ – interest in her, and the platonic camaraderie she shared with Jack, and the knowledge that Jack was no more interested in a relationship than her was comforting.

It would be nice to have a male friend, she thought as she went back into the house.

"You seem pretty pleased with yourself," Cate McMasters commented a few days later. It really was remarkable, she thought, the way Jack always made his way back to the ED. He had shied away a bit after his relationship with Deanna had blown up in his face, and he'd had to take responsibility for the part his defending her had played in Frank's heart attack and Nelson's mental breakdown (Frank had told him that the nurse was taking a 'well-deserved break', but everyone had known how on-edge Nelson had been and everyone knew exactly what Frank's euphemism meant) and resignation. But now he was back and spending as much time here as he had when he had been dating Terri, and then Deanna.

Jack shrugged nonchalantly. "Things are going well for me," he said. And they were. Under Mike Vlasek, he was racking up experience as a surgeon, his relationship with his sister was blossoming – for half-siblings born seven years apart who had only met a year ago at eighteen and twenty-five, they had an excellent camaraderie and connection – and then there was his burgeoning friendship with Gabrielle Jaeger. He found himself liking her more with every opportunity he got to know her. She was highly professional, with an arsenal of intellectual weapons when it came to getting things done that put Deanna and Terri combined to shame – her manipulating Frank into thinking that _he_ had dreamed up the Patient Liaison Officer position for Von had been particularly clever - but she was friendly, intelligent and best of all, honest to a fault. She said exactly what was on her mind – at least with Jack, who she knew she _could_ say exactly what was on her mind to – and Jack found that refreshing. There were no pretences about her, and he found that charming.

That, and she was only interested in his friendship, which in itself was a refreshing change to how many women were interested in him because having a surgeon for a boyfriend was the Holy Grail of dating. Yes, it was nice to have a female friend just for the sake of friendship.

"Any reason to be happy?" Cate asked.

"No," he said. "Why? Do I _need_ a reason?"

"Well, it's just that – um – a few of us thought that maybe you – weren't very happy," Cate said, floundering in light of the pointed look Jack was giving her.

"Because of Charlotte's pregnancy?" Jack asked. Cate squirmed her _yes_ answer, and Jack continued to look at her pointedly, more for her own amusement than anything else. "Who'd you draw short against to ask me?" he asked. It hadn't occurred to him that his friends might be talking about him, but of course they would. Well-meaning, of course, but still – and yet Jack couldn't find himself caring too much. They meant well.

"Vincent and Dan," Cate admitted. "And we didn't draw straws."

"They figured that since you were a girl, you would be more sensitive to the subject?" Jack asked, and he found himself trying not to smile at the image. He could just imagine Vincent and Dan discussing between themselves how well Jack was coping with Charlotte's new pregnancy – then deciding that Cate, as a woman, was a better bet to talk to them. Cate nodded guiltily and Jack allowed his smile to come through. "I appreciate your concern, I really do," he said. "But I'm dealing with it. I'm – talking to people," he said, unwilling to admit that it was largely Gabrielle that he was talking to about it. She was so easy to talk to, and so understanding. He justified that Cate would never understand his friendship with Gabrielle, and turn it into something to gossip about. He remembered how she and Dan had gathered information on Deanna, and that was all he needed to fill his justification.

Cate thought about it, and decided to take Jack's word for it. He _looked_ pretty happy."Then – d'you think you could say something to Charlotte?" she asked. "She, uh, may be under the impression that you're avoiding her. At least, that's what Vincent thinks." And Vincent had no doubt gotten it from Charlotte herself.

This came as a surprise to Jack. He would have thought Charlotte was far too involved in her pregnancy to notice what Jack was doing. _And I haven't been avoiding her_, he thought. But then he wondered if he _had_. Not in the way Cate was thinking. He just hadn't thought him spending a lot of time with Charlotte was in anyone's best interest right now. "I'll speak to her," Jack promised, and Cate looked relieved. He job was done.

Jack found Charlotte later. "I hear you think I've been avoiding you," he said.

Charlotte tried to deny it, then scowled. "Vincent shouldn't have said anything," she said.

Jack shrugged, knowing better to admit that he had heard it from Cate. The two women were just getting back to a point of friendliness following Cate's short-lived relationship with Vincent, and Jack didn't want to be the one to put a dampener on that. "It doesn't matter, does it?"

"No," Charlotte admitted. "Vincent shouldn't have said anything to you, but – I _am_ worried about you, Jack. You've been avoiding me."

"I've been busy."

"You've managed to become busy at exactly the same time I told everyone about my pregnancy?" Charlotte asked dubiously.

"If you'd believe it, yeah. Look, if I tell you something, will you promise not to tell anyone else?" Charlotte nodded, exactly as Jack had expected her to. "I mean it, Charlotte. I'm not interest in being the topic of gossip again." Charlotte realised Jack was dead serious and nodded more sombrely. "I've been spending time with Gabrielle."

"Gabrielle Jaeger? Our _NUM_ Gabrielle Jaeger?" Charlotte asked incredulously. Jack nodded. "Frank-is-going-to-kill-you," Charlotte said in a sing-song voice. Frank had spent far longer tearing Jack to pieces to _Charlotte_ than he had to Jack himself. There was certainly no denying that Jack had managed to be quite a thorn in Frank's side when it came to his personal life. Charlotte would _love_ to be a fly on the wall if – _when_ – Frank found out that Jack and Gabrielle were seeing each other.

Jack scowled. This was exactly why he hadn't wanted to say anything to Charlotte about him and Gabrielle. Hell, it wasn't like the _was_ a 'him and Gabrielle', anyway. "It's not like that," he said. "We're just mates. She's fun, and easy to talk to. I've never had a woman friend who was, well, _just_ a woman friend," he admitted.

"Really? Never?" Charlotte asked, her interest piqued. She had known Jack was something of a player – after all, what kind of guy blatantly flirted with someone who was both his professional superior as well as ten years older than him? – but she hadn't realised he'd never had – how did he put it? – a woman friend who was _just_ a woman friend. She realised that even _she_ didn't count – and maybe she _especially_ didn't count because their friendship, whatever it might be based on now, had been founded initially on their baby. But that was beside the point right now. "That's kind of sad," she said. She decided now wasn't the time to admit that many of _her_ female friends were exes – or women she had had crushes on at some point.

"I know. That's why I _like_ being mates with Gabrielle. It's... uncomplicated. And she feels the same way. It's _nice_ having someone who's not hassling me to take them out."

Charlotte swatted Jack playfully. "Conceited git," she said, although she knew what Jack was talking about. Good looking surgeons were _always_ going to attract female attention – just look at Vincent. "Well, good for you, then. And don't be a stranger, OK? I _miss_ you. I don't want you to feel that you have to be walking on eggshells around me."

"I don't," Jack said, and he found himself realising that it was true – or at least truer than it had been a week ago. "I just don't want to be getting in the way. I don't want to be stealing Spence's thunder, for lack of a better word. I remember how much I wanted to smack Vincent when he ran around basically acting like _he_ was the father when you were pregnant. It made me feel completely useless, like I was only good for being a sperm donor and that you were both better off with someone that you'd known for longer. I don't want to do that to Spence."

Charlotte reached out and touched Jack's cheek gently. "You're sweet," she said, wondering why he took such pains to hide that behind his skirt-chasing, I'm-practically-an-orphan-I-don't-need-anyone act. Not for the first time, she regretted the way she had allowed Vincent to come in on his white horse and get involved with her pregnancy then take care of her following her miscarriage. Perhaps if she had known what he was feeling – but it was done now, and he seemed to be handling it well, a small part thanks to Gabrielle. "I _like_ having you in my life, Jack – and I know you're not about to nudge Spence out. I mean it, OK. Don't be a stranger." And she leaned in to hug him.

"It was nice," Jack said to Gabrielle later that evening. She had invited him out for drinks, only they had agreed that being seen out together having a drink by the gossips of All Saints was more hassle than it was worth, so he had come over to her place. "It felt like closure. I thought maybe I'd want to be involved with this pregnancy because of transference issues, but I don't. I just want her to be happy." He wondered if that's what had made Vincent edge him out of Charlotte's pregnancy as easily and thoughtlessly as he had done – transference issues, and he found himself feeling a little sorry for the man. Whatever residual feelings he had regarding Charlotte's first pregnancy, he knew they meant nothing compared to the ongoing love Vincent felt for his ex and his confusion over her sexuality.

All of a sudden, he didn't feel so resentful of Vincent.

"That's good," she said. "It's... _good_ to be able to let go of your anger," she said, thinking about Steve. It had only been a year and she was still so _angry_ over it. At him, at her best friend, at men in general who saw nothing wrong with cheating on women who loved them and were devoted to them. What had it been about Steve, about Ashley, that had made him not care that he had a loving, devoted girlfriend waiting for him? Had he thought Ashley was a better bet, or had he been so driven to cater to his penis that in the heat of the moment, he hadn't cared?

"You're thinking of your ex," Jack commented.

"I am not," Gabrielle said, resenting his insight.

"Yeah, you are. I've seen that look enough times on Cate's face." She had been heartbroken following her and Vincent's break-up. _Poor girl_, Jack thought. He hadn't been the only victim in the warped relationship between Vincent and Charlotte. "What was he like?" he asked. **- 328**

"Steve?" Gabrielle asked, and Jack nodded. "He was older than me," was the first thing that came to mind. "I was so in awe of that. I wasn't as pretty as some of the other girls in town, and it made me feel so good about myself to have this older guy interested in me. Only it turned out that it wasn't just me that he was interested in. I found out he was having a thing with someone I thought was my best friend."

"Jesus, I'm so sorry."

"You didn't have anything to do with it."

"I'm allowed to be empathetic as a human being, aren't I?" Jack asked. "It sucks to be cheated on. I saw what my dad put my step-mum through. She wasn't a nice person – she was never going to be Mother Theresa and being chained to the responsibilities of being a mother and housewife while your husband screwed everything they could hardly improved on that – but I'd never wish that on anyone. Some people aren't made to be in monogamous relationships, that's fair enough. But if you're not, then you shouldn't waste everyone's time and emotions by committing to someone when you can't actually be faithful."

He had expressed that sentiment before, but Gabrielle doubted that she would ever get tired of hearing it. The idea that there were guys out there who took fidelity so seriously – she wondered what it would be like to have a boyfriend like that.

Jack stayed a few hours later, and she was sorry, like she always was, to see him go. It was wonderful having someone like him in her life. He made her feel good about herself. He had this way of looking at her like all the internal things she liked about herself – her professionalism, her intelligence – not to mention her craftiness, her compassion to her patients and her loyalty to her friends – were projected outwards to make her beautiful. No-one had ever made her feel beautiful before. At least, not people who weren't _obliged_ to make her feel beautiful, like her parents.

She was glad to have a friend like Jack.

4


	3. Chapter 3

"Where's Jack these days, I never see him around? Don't tell me he's acting like a child and pretending we're not involved."

So said Bianca Frost scathingly. Dan shifted restlessly in bed. He didn't know what Bianca's problem with him was, he only knew that for some reason, she hated Jack's guts and she wasn't telling him why beyond her usual line about arrogant surgeons. And if Jack knew, he wasn't saying anything, either.

Dan felt momentarily guilty. He knew Jack was avoiding the house because he'd asked him to – so he could have alone time with Bianca. It really wasn't fair to do that to a friend, especially when he had no objections to the cheques that kept coming in. He justified it by telling himself that it forced Jack to spend some quality time with his sister. "Probably with Rebecca," Dan said.

"One of his conquests?" Bianca asked snidely.

Dan shuddered at the incestuous thought. "I suggest you never repeat that to him, if you like having your head attached to your neck. Bec's his sister."

Bianca frowned. "He doesn't have a sister."

Momentarily, Dan wondered how Bianca knew this, then figured it was just one of those things that surgeons knew amongst themselves. "He didn't, until about a year ago. Bec's his half-sister on his mum's side. Sweet kid, sharp as a tack. And he's so protective of her – I wanted to ask her out but he basically said that he wasn't letting her stoop to dating a nurse, on his mum's orders." Dan laughed at the memory. "I have a feeling the pair of them meddle in each other's lives something chronic and justify it by saying it was what their mum wanted."

"I don't get it. How do you not know you have a sister until a year ago?" she asked. Rebecca was clearly at least in her late-teens if Dan had wanted to ask her out.

"It's a long story." And one that Jack wouldn't appreciate his sharing, although versions of it were available through the gossip vine. "But she's good for him."

"I hardly see how having to take responsibility of a woman he can't sleep with is good for him," Bianca said in that same scathing tone. One more, Dan wondered where her anger and resentment at Jack came from. If he didn't know better, he would have thought she was a spurned ex of his, although she had loftily – and emphatically – said that she wouldn't go near someone like Jack with a ten-foot pole. _I rather like knowing the person I'm sharing my bed with hasn't shared _theirs_ with half the southern hemisphere_, she had said.

"Actually, that's _precisely_ why she's good for him," Dan explained. "It's good for him to care about someone platonically. Sometimes, I think before Bec, he didn't know how."

* * *

"Thanks for letting me stay here when she's over," Jack was saying to Gabrielle at about the same time as Bianca was bad-mouthing him in his own house.

"It's not a problem – especially since your coffee machine beats my tin of Nescafe anyway. I can't believe you spent more on that then you did your last car," she added with a laugh. When Jack's last piece of shit had died, so the story went, he had finally invested in a decent set of wheels, but before that, he had been the proud – or not-so-proud – owner of a rust bucket that was more likely to sent up a cloud of smoke then it was to drive more than ten meters.

"Actually, the _reason_ I had that car was because buying my coffee machine cleared me out," Jack admitted. "I considered it a fair trade. And I don't see you complaining."

"I'm not... I just can think of better ways to spend five grand." She took a sip of coffee. "You know, if you want, I can put Dan on night shifts for a while. At least it will force him to have his little assignations during the day and you can have you room back at nights."

"Thanks, but I suspect Bianca will just retaliate by putting me on nights too, and we'll have the same problem. I don't want you pissing him off over something like that. Save your pissing-off credit for when you actually need it – not for striking revenge on a mate's behalf."

She smiled. She liked the way he said 'mate' so casually, like it was such a given that he didn't need to make a deal out of saying it. _You're a mate_, like _you want a cuppa while I'm up_. It was nice. "What are you smiling at?" he asked, and Gabrielle realised that she had been smiling quite obviously.

"Just... thinking pleasant thoughts," she said, hoping she wasn't blushing too obviously. It was such a stupid thing to smile about, and if Jack knew, no doubt he would think she was a silly, infatuated girl for smiling over such a stupid thing. "Nothing worth sharing."

Which naturally meant Jack was dying to know what Gabrielle had been thinking about, but he let it go. Besides, he liked seeing her smile – it lit up her face completely and made her a completely different person – and he liked knowing that maybe he was behind the smile. "Fine," he said good-naturedly. "Finish your coffee. I feel like taking a drive."

"I must say," she said when they had driven through Sydney and had settled at an all-night diner, "while her spite is my gain, Bianca can sure hold a grudge. D'you even know what it is she's so pissed at you over?"

"You won't tell anyone?" Jack asked automatically, because by now he had learned that Gabrielle was extremely trustworthy, and didn't need to be told to keep a secret – she always knew what she was meant to keep to herself. "I slept to her years ago, at uni. It was nothing special and I wasn't interested in seeing her again. I guess she didn't take it well," he said dryly. He had learnt pretty quickly that Bianca wasn't the type of person who took rejection lightly; it had only made him gladder that he _hadn't_ pursued a relationship, although a little sorry that he had gotten involved with her at all.

Jack spoke these words so casually, like he was talking about being a boy scout. Although, Gabrielle thought, the number of men in Sydney who had been lovers of Bianca Frost and the number of men in Sydney who had been boy scouts were probably about the same. "You're kidding me," she said.

"Nope."

"_That's_ why she hates you?"

"Yup."

"You didn't do _anything_ else to piss her off?" Gabrielle asked disbelievingly. She _wanted_ to believe Jack, but with his reputation – "Sorry," she said when she realised she had been judging him when she really ought to know him better by now.

Jack had been judged and gossiped about to take offense over something like that. And she had apologised, which was sweet. "Nope. She's always been that kind of person. Doesn't take well to being told no."

Gabrielle laughed; _that_ she could believe. She had already had her issues with Bianca; the woman thought nurses existed to service her. _Which, really, is what Dan's doing_, she thought derisively. Jack laughed when she said that out loud. "Why don't you just tell people that?" she asked. "I'm not the only one who things she's being unreasonable – about you and in general," she clarified. "People would _love_ to know that she's holding a grudge over something so petty."

"I don't want to stoop to her level. Besides, you already said it – people think she's being unreasonable. It won't be long before she wears everyone's patience too thin. Besides, I kind of feel sorry for her." Gabrielle snorted derisively at that. How could _anyone_, let alone someone that Bianca had been such a bitch to over such a petty thing, feel _sorry_ for her? "Well, just look at her. She's been holding a grudge for almost ten years because I slept with her once and didn't want to go out with her afterwards. She's obviously full of anger and bitterness. She can't be very happy, and I bet none of her relationships are particularly deep – or even sincere. People suck up to her because she's a brilliant surgeon, and maybe she's good in bed – she certainly wasn't in _my _experience – but that's all she's got, and the longer it goes on and the older she gets, the more apparent that will become. My personal life might not be in the best state, but I know who my friends are and I know that they like me for myself. Being gorgeous and a good surgeon might be enough now, but eventually it won't be, and that's why I feel sorry for her."

Gabrielle didn't say anything, but inwardly, she was even more impressed with Jack than ever. Not only was he good-looking, funny and intelligent with a strong sense of loyalty and a strong sense of ethics when it came to fidelity, but he had the class to rise above someone who was using whatever power she had to wreak vengeance on a petty slight from almost a decade ago. Was it possible to improve the guy? And how on earth had be managed to stay single for so long?

* * *

"Charlotte, d'you know where Jack's spending all his time these days?" Dan asked Charlotte a few days later. The combination on Bianca's ongoing 'curiosity' – she was very curious for someone who claimed to not be able to stand the sight of him -

Charlotte smirked, knowing exactly why Dan was asking her and not Jack. "Why don't you go and asked him?" she asked.

Dan fidgeted at that, and Charlotte's smirk grew wider. "Don't want him to remind me that he doesn't feel welcome at home," he admitted.

"I wonder why," Charlotte said sarcastically.

"I didn't _mean_ to make him stay away," Dan insisted a little plaintively. "Bianca just prefers to stay at my place."

Charlotte resisted the urge to say another sarcastic comment; she had heard on the grapevine that Bianca Frost was married. Well, _she_ wasn't going to be the one to break the news to Dan. "I don't know where he's spending all his time," Charlotte said, which was technically true, because she didn't know for _sure_ that he was spending him time with Gabrielle Jaeger. "He's probably with Rebecca."

"Already asked her," Dan admitted. "She said he hadn't said anything."

_Hmmm. So that means he's telling Gabrielle everything_, Charlotte thought. Interesting. They were closer than she had thought – closer than she had thought Jack was _capable_ of becoming to a person in such a short period of time. "Then I don't know," she said. Jack had said that he wanted to keep his friendship with Gabrielle quiet so people wouldn't talk about them, and Charlotte knew that Dan was a compulsive gossip – and that was _without_ the fact he shared pillow talk with Bianca, who would no doubt _love_ to get the gossip mils going about Jack and yet another woman. She decided not to say anything, and let Dan go off, information-less and somewhat disappointed.

* * *

"You've been spending a lot of time with Gabrielle lately?" Charlotte phrased it as a question, although it was more of a statement when she spoke to Jack a few days later.

"Yeah, so?" Jack asked. "I like her. She's fun. And she lets me crash on her couch. Beats the on-call room any day."

"I remember," Charlotte said dryly. On-calls rooms were often counter-productive when it came to sleep. "So you guys are pretty close then?" she asked in her attempt at subtlety.

Her attempt failed miserably. Jack glared at her witheringly. "If you're implying something, Char, I wish you'd just come out and say it. And no, there's nothing between us other than friendship. God, is it _so_ unusual for me to be just friends with a woman?"

"When we're talking about you, Jack – uh, _yeah_," Charlotte admitted. "I know you don't entirely deserve your reputation, but you're not entirely innocent, either, so just deal with it. I just wanted to know if there was anything more between you than just mates."

"Well, there's not," Jack said grumpily. "No more than there is between you and I," he said, well aware of the irony of that.

"Well... good," Charlotte said, knowing that she was taking more pleasure out of knowing that than she should. It was just that, for all Jack's disastrous run of luck with women, it meant that there was never anyone that he got too close to, and that meant that there was never any woman who came between that particular brand of close friendship.

* * *

Gabrielle squealed as Jack spun her around in the shallow waters of 'his' beach. Well, it wasn't _his_ – it belonged to the residents of Australia – but it was so out-of-the-way that he had never come across anyone else, but he considered it 'his'. It was, in his opinion, far nicer than beaches like Bondi and Manly and, more importantly, deserted.

Gabrielle had admitted that she couldn't swim. Which had naturally led Jack to pick her up and walk her into the ocean with her squealing in protest – not a real care in the world – as he did. It was hard to be scared when the water wasn't even at Jack's knees and he was so strong and she could feel the muscles in his chest through his shirt. He carried her like she weighed no more than a rag-doll, and he made her feel so light and feminine doing it. She, who had always felt so tall and stocky compared to other women felt girlish. Girlish – and cherished. She couldn't remember ever feeling like this, and dimly thought that maybe she never had.

She was laughing at the wind and the spray hit her face and whipped up her hair. It was chilly, but that only made her feel invigorated. She couldn't remember feeling so alive – or happy. "Jack!" she squealed. "Let me go!"

It was good to hear her laugh like that. It was good to have fun with her. "OK," he said, and let her go, dropping her ass-first into the water.

Laughing, she scrambled to her feet. The waves had washed over her and she was soaked to the skin, her hair plastered to her face. "You bastard!" she yelled at him, caressing the word as if she were saying 'darling'.

"Consider that your first lesson," he said, and his eyes were dancing. For a second, he made her think of a schoolboy who had pulled off a particularly clever prank - but he was so much more than that. He was funny, intelligent, compassionate, professional, loyal – not to mention insanely good looking. He was the ideal man.

He was _her_ ideal man.

It came to her in a rush of clarity. How much fun she had with him, how good he made her feel about herself, how safe she felt around him – protected, and yet... _challenged_. Challenged to broaden her horizons within the safety of a friend who would always have her back and would never think to use her for his own selfish desires. Gave her friendship first and foremost, wanting nothing more than that.

He was the best male friend she had ever had, and didn't they say the best relationships were founded on friendships?

She looked at him, seeing him in a whole new light. She had been so wrong about her first impressions of him, and she vowed never to judged people based on gossip again. "Jack," she said, and kissed him – the first time in her life that she had made the first move and kissed a guy.

Part of Jack was surprised, and part of him felt that it was the natural next move in a naturally-evolving relationship. _Relationship_, not a friendship anymore. And weren't the best relationships based on friendships?

She tasted nice – as nice as he had expected, nicer even. She tasted of the strawberry lip-balm she used, and smelled of salt and sand and a little bit of the apple shampoo that she used. He wrapped his arms around her back, her skin soaked, the heat of the sun radiating off her despite the coolness of the water. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he couldn't remember a woman tasting so nice or it feeling so _good_ to kiss someone, and he was dimly aware of the fact that it was most likely because it hadn't. Not with Terri, not with Deanna, regardless of how infatuated he had been at the time. This was what they sang songs and wrote movies about. This was the heat of red-hot attraction and the easy comfort of a close friendship. This was –

"Jack," she whispered, and it brought him back to reality. This was something he should not be getting into right now.

He pulled away, and she immediately saw from the look on his face that she shouldn't have kissed him. Dumbly, she followed him out of the surf onto the sad. "I'm sorry," she said helplessly, taking the blame, assuming that she had been in the wrong because she lacked the experience to know when such things ere appropriate – and when they weren't.

"It's not your fault," he said, wondering if there had ever been a more appropriate time – _if_ it was something that he should be doing.

There was something in the way he said it that made her heart plummet. He regretted that she had kissed him – and he regretted kissing her back. Even if he _had_ kissed he back.

How could you kiss someone like that and regret it? Was there some code of attraction that she didn't understand? "I'm sorry," she said again. "I get it. I misread the signals."

He grabbed her hand. There was something in her tone that made him feel like more of a shit than he had when he had slept with Charlotte after declaring his undying love for Terri. Because Terri had never felt about him the way he had wanted her to, and Gabrielle had so much more invested in him. "You didn't," he said. "Misread the signals, I mean. It's just – I'm not ready to be in a relationship. I've been through so much this last year. I lost my daughter and my mum, my house burnt down and I've found myself responsible for a seventeen-year-old. Not to mention I exercised the worst possible judgement in my _last_ relationship. I don't know where I am emotionally right now, and I think – I think it's best that I don't complicate things and get involved with someone right now."

She didn't know weather to cry or be relieved at that. At least it meant that it wasn't _her_ he was rejecting, just the idea of a relationship. But that seemed cold comfort right now. "So it's not me," she said flatly. She couldn't help but think of all the guys who had passed her over in favour of someone prettier.

"Not only is it not you, but if I thought I was ready to be in a relationship, it _would_ be you," he said. "I've never had a relationship with a woman that's so healthy and easy. If it was anyone, it would be you."

He said that in a tone that made her thin that he really meant it, and she tried to take comfort out of it. Not easy, given that it was _never_ easy to be rejected after you had come onto someone – no matter what the reason. "I guess that means something," she said in a brittle voice.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I wish I could give you something more. Believe me, I do."

* * *

"Thanks for coming with me," Charlotte said as Jack drove them into the driveway of her home. "I just didn't want to do this alone, with Vincent being in Canada and Spence – "

"Char, it's fine," Jack said. Charlotte had been thanking him profusely ever since she had asked him several days ago to take her to her first ultrasound. "I don't want you to be alone, either." _Poor girl_, he thought, even though Charlotte was ten years older than him. It had to suck to have Spence still in Somalia with no idea of weather or not he was coming back to Sydney – or even Australia – and Vincent in Canada on top of that, which made him the next person she turned to. Jack figured it would be pretty damn selfish to put his own issues over her pregnancy first and not to be the friend she needed.

She smiled at him. She was glad Jack had come through with her – he really was the sweetest person, and she was glad that he was here for her.

"You don't have to stay," she said when he set about making dinner. "I'm sure you have better things to do – places to be, people to see."

"It's no big deal. And actually, I don't. Dan's still seeing Bianca so I don't feel welcome there."

"Take heart, eventually he'll realise the kind of woman she is. And I thought you were spending time with Gabrielle."

"I was."

Most other women would have realised that you weren't meant to pursue the topic; but this was Charlotte, and she had never been big on respecting her friend's privacy. She justified it by thinking that since Gabrielle was good for Jack, then Jack not wanting to spend time with her was a bad thing, and as a mate, Charlotte ought to know about something like that. "Something happen between you guys?"

"Charlotte..." Jack said warningly. Anyone else would have dropped it, but Charlotte, he knew, had little respect for his privacy. "Alright, fine," he said, relenting because he knew she would never get off his back otherwise. "She kissed me."

"Ha! I _knew_ there was something there. What did you do?"

"Told her I wasn't interested in a relationship."

"You mean you're not interested in a relationship with someone younger than you?" Charlotte scoffed.

"Being pregnant doesn't give you a licence to be a cow," Jack said good-naturedly. "And how do you know she's younger than me?"

"Looked up her personnel file. Duh. And I wasn't even the only one," Charlotte said. Naturally, everyone would be curious about someone so young in an administrative position. She had justified it by thinking she had ever right to know that her NUM was capable. "What, you didn't know?"

"No, I didn't. I try and _respect_ people's privacy." Now, of course, Jack was dying to know how old Gabrielle was, but naturally he couldn't ask.

"Well, she's twenty-four. Loads of experience, too." Jack looked disinterested. "Don't you care?"

"I already knew. She basically ran a country hospital – what we'd call a clinic, from what I could gather."

Charlotte felt a little disappointed. So Jack knew all this, did he? From his hours of talking to Gabrielle? "Guess you're pretty close," she said, angling for information.

"Guess so."

"Close enough that she kissed you."

"Guess so," Jack repeated.

"Goddamnit, Jack, you're infuriating, you know that?" Charlotte yelled at him. She missed Vincent; he was a much better gossip. "So an attractive woman who you get along great with comes onto you – and you're not the least bit interested?"

"No", Jack lied, because he could still taste Gabrielle on his lips.

Charlotte shrugged and let it go. If Jack really didn't want to talk, then there was no getting it out of him.

Jack made them dinner and they settled down on the couch – Charlotte had never bothered to use her table, to a point that it was now cluttered with several years worth of accumulated junk. "I miss being cooked for," she admitted. "All I can do is apricot chicken."

"I know. The whole hospital does." Vincent was fond of telling people that all his ex-wife could do was, well, apricot chicken. He started to say that he missed being cooked for, too – Dan's cooking skills were limited to two-minute noodles, microwave meals and picking up the phone to call for takeaway. But then he remembered that he had been cooked for a whole lot lately – because Gabrielle had cooked for him.

He chewed on his bottom lip absently, tasting strawberry.

Jack and Charlotte kicked back for the evening, talking and laughing. Jack realised how much he had missed Charlotte, between his avoiding Charlotte because of her pregnancy and spending so much time with Gabrielle after Dan had made it clear that it wasn't welcome at home. He figured he should make the best of the situation before Spence got back, because it really wasn't right to step on the guy's turf.

"Sophia never got over my being a lesbian," Charlotte said. "She's over the moon that I got pregnant – how did she say it? – _the proper way_." Charlotte laughed at that. "I offered her the number of a dozen people I know through GLAAD to tell her what they thought of her 'proper way'."

"I remember her. Sweet girl, but a bit on the conservative side. Probably would have gotten on great with my brothers. Oh, and she had a huge crush on Vincent."

"True," Charlotte said. She hadn't been bothered by Sophia's crush on Vincent; she had been long past any romantic feelings she had for the man by that point. "I think she'll make a good aunt, though."

"S'long as I get to be an uncle."

"Of course. I don't have any brothers." She was glad he had volunteered for the position.

"Probably why you because an lesbian. No strong male influence," Jack joked, and he got a pillow thrown at him for his troubles. "Seriously, though, I don't think flesh-and-blood is as important as everyone thinks he is. I mean, you've met my dad." Charlotte made a face at that; Jack had reluctantly introduced her to his father as part of his responsibilities for her and their baby, and Ned Quade had hit on her the second Charlotte had ventured out of Jack's line of sight. "I'm the last person to say blood is everything. I think it's more important to have a group of friends who actually have your back than family who doesn't actually give a shit."

At that, Charlotte started to cry, and Jack was immediately worried. "I didn't mean to – " he said, thinking he had said something to set off her hormones.

Charlotte shook her head and tried to brush away her tears, but then kept coming. "I'm sorry, it's not you. It's just – I have no idea of when Spence is coming back - _if_ he's ever coming back."

"Oh, Char, don't be daft. Spence is coming back." But even as he was speaking the words, Jack had to admit that he didn't know he true they were. He had only met Spence a few times, and he hadn't been particularly enamoured with him. Sure, the guy was passionate about what he did in Somalia – but that was just it. Everything else took a backseat – including Charlotte and their baby. The man could very well decide that it was better for him to be helping the many in Somalia than the one in Sydney.

"How can you possibly know that?" Charlotte asked, calling Jack on his words. "Doctors Without Borders means so much to him – and he hasn't known me for that long. What is there to take him from there?"

"_You_," he said. "The guy's crazy about you. You don't just pack up and go halfway across the world – even just for a trip – for someone you're not crazy about. He'll come back, Charlotte. He'll be an idiot not to."

"I've known plenty of men who are idiots in my life," Charlotte sniffled.

"Poor baby. C'mere," he said, drawing her into his arms. Charlotte went willingly, burying her head in his chest. Jack stroked her hair, thinking idly that there had only been two other occasions that he had been in such close proximity to Charlotte – when they had slept together and when she had miscarried. It felt odd, and not the least bit sexual. His comment about being an uncle hadn't been too far off; he was beginning to see her as an older sister. "It'll be OK. Even if he doesn't come back, you have loads of friends – people who really care about you – and if Spence is so much an idiot that he would stay in Somalia rather than come back and take care of you and your child – _his_ child – well then, you deserve way better than that. And if Spence doesn't show up – _if_ he doesn't show up – then you have me, Vincent, Frank – hell, that's probably why he hasn't shown his face yet. He knows he's got some hefty competition."

Charlotte laughed at that in spite of himself. Frank _was_ especially lenient on her these days, which by everyone else's standards was almost human. "You're just trying to be nice," she said.

"I am not. You're going to be OK, Charlotte. I promise. I'm here for you."

He held Charlotte while she cried out her frustration and insecurities at Spence's absence. "Thanks," she said after her tears had subsided. "I'm so hormonal these days."

"It's fine. You're allowed to be."

"I wish Spence was more like you," Charlotte said. She thought about how Jack had acted when she had told him about her pregnancy. Initially, he had wanted nothing to do with her – and she had sort of understood that. It had been a drunken one-night stand, a mistake, and he had been trying to reconcile with Terri. He _had_ reconciled with Terri, actually, and that reconciliation had been shot to hell because of that. And he had accepted that as his responsibility.; he certainly hadn't blamed Charlotte for anything that had gone awry from what he had wanted because of it. And when she had miscarried – momentarily, she felt remorseful for how she had pushed him away, because had had been such a source of strength and comfort.

She had thought, because she hadn't had that much experience with men on a personal level, that Jack was just acting in a decent way that men were supposed to act. She was beginning to realise that Jack had gone way beyond what was expected of men. Of what was expected of men like Spence.

"I'm special, I'll give you that," Jack said self-depreciatingly.

Charlotte looked at Jack and wondered if he realised just how highly she thought of him for the way he had acted during her pregnancy and after her miscarriage. She decided that he didn't, because for all the arrogant bluster that he liked to put about at times, he had quite a grounded sense of humility. Why had it been _that_ pregnancy that had failed? She may not have been destined to have a romantic relationship with Jack, but at least she could have relied on him to always be there as the father of her child.

"You are special," she said that, and with that, she kissed him.

Two things entered Jack's mind when Charlotte kissed him. The first was that Rebecca had loaned him a book that he needed to give back. The second was that Charlotte didn't taste anything like strawberry lip balm. He pulled away. "Um..." he said, struggling for words. If he had thought trying to let Gabrielle down had been awkward...

"I'm about half a foot too short?" Charlotte asked, getting it immediately. You didn't struggle with your sexuality to learn a thing or too about who you found attractive – and whether or not someone found _you_ attractive. Jack flushed in embarrassment. "And you turned her down _why_?" Charlotte asked, eager to get away from _her_ embarrassment of kissing Jack. She adored him, and hoped they would always be friends, and hoped he would play a major part in her child's life, but anything more than that? _Not going to happen_, she thought, and focused on Jack and Gabrielle. "Jack?" she asked, thinking that this was one of those times when a good friend pressed for information. "Why did you turn her down?"

"I don't feel ready to be in a relationship."

"Why?" Jack launched into the same explanation that he had given Gabrielle – the lost of his daughter and mother, the breakdown of his relationships with Terri and Deanna, his house burning down – and Charlotte waved him away. "Those are piss-poor excuses," she scoffed. "You're just afraid."

"Of what?" Jack asked indignantly.

"Of being hurt again. You're not on the rebound and you damn well know it. You just don't want to risk being hurt again."

Jack opened his mouth to protest, and found that no words would come out. That made it clear to Charlotte that even he was struggling to justify himself. "This isn't Terri – or Deanna," she reminded Jack. "I've seen the way you guys are together. You have something really special. And God knows, you deserve to be happy." She could tell Jack was thinking. "Go talk to her, Jack. You already know she's interested in you. What exactly do you have to lose?"

* * *

"Jack! What are you doing here?" Gabrielle asked the next day, not sure if she was pleased to see Jack or not. Well, she _was_ – she was always pleased to see him – but he had been avoiding her ever since she had kissed him, so she wasn't sure what it meant that he had suddenly shown up at her door.

"Can I come in?" Jack asked, and Gabrielle opened the door. He stood in the entry, his hands balled into fists and stuffed in the pockets of his jeans, looking very nervous.

"You OK?" Gabrielle asked. She wondered if it had to do with her, and then decided that it did. Why would he abruptly show up at her door all nervous after avoiding her for several days if it _wasn't_ about their kiss? _Her_ kiss, she corrected herself. There had been no reciprocation. Well, hardly any at least, and what reciprocation there had been was no doubt automatic for someone like Jack. She had been an idiot to think he might be interested in her.

"Fine," he said, and the word came out more harshly than he had intended. It was just that his throat was so dry that the words got caught coming up like objects moving across sandpaper. "And you?" he asked stupidly, because it was the first thing that came to mind and seemed sensible enough since he was only returning the inquiry. He felt even stupider once the words were out of his mouth.

"I'm OK," she said evenly. "I'm sorry to be rude, but I'm in the middle of dinner so if you don't mind making it quick –?"

At the mention of dinner, Jack remembered that he had been too nervous to eat since last night's dinner with Charlotte. He remembered how many times he had had dinner here over the last few weeks, and how much fun he had had with her. God, he had been an idiot. "About what I said to you – when you kissed me," he said, those words feeling like sandpaper again. He couldn't remember ever feeling this nervous. He remembered how he had felt about Terri – how he had _thought_ he had felt about Terri – and he felt the inappropriate urge to laugh at how childish his feelings seemed in comparison. He _knew_ the woman had feelings for her, but he was still as nervous as all hell.

"Yeah..." Gabrielle said. What, was he saying it was too awkward for them to be friends now? Damn, she should have thought it through. Of _course_ Jack wouldn't be interested in a relationship – and now she had ruined them even being friends. _Stupid, stupid girl_.

"," Jack blurted out in under a second.

"Huh?"

He swallowed. "I. Was wondering. If I. Could. Takeitback," he skipped on the last three words. He swallowed again, and breathed deeply. "I was scared, and holding onto my hurt, and thinking that I was better off not getting involved with anyone. And you surprised me when you kissed me so I said – I said stuff I wish I hadn't, and I want to take it back."

"Take it back," she repeated dumbly. "As in...?" she asked, leaving the question deliberately vague, not wanting to ask if he wanted something that he didn't actually wanted and get her hopes up only to be disappointed.

"As in – I want us to have what we have – what he _had_, before I stuffed it up and turned you down – but... more. I, um – want – um –" God, this was impossible. He was asking for something he had never asked for, never _had_ to ask for, never felt the inclination to ask for. "Iwantyoutobemygirlfriend," he said in the same sub-second blurting that he had used before.

Now that she knew what he wanted, Gabrielle couldn't help but smiling. Jack scowled at that; he confessed his heart's desires, and she _smiled_. And not even in a _good_ way. It was a _laughing_ smile. She was _laughing_ at him. "I'm sorry, it's just – you sound like you've never asked anyone to be your girlfriend before," she said.

"I haven't!" he said indignantly. It didn't help his cause; it only made Gabrielle look at him like he was some kind of freak. "Look, I've never been big on relationships, and I've never had a problem attracting women," he admitted. When you were intelligent and good-looking with a big ambitious streak that meant you were going places, getting rid of girlfriends – and would-be girlfriends – tended to be more of an issue that getting someone to _be_ his girlfriend. "So no, I've never asked someone to be my girlfriend. Until now."

"You're asking me to be your girlfriend?" Gabrielle asked. The way Jack was stumbling over his explanation was charming, and she wasn't entirely sure she wanted to let him off the hook _just_ yet.

"Yeah, I am," he said. He looked at her suspiciously, convinced that she was enjoying this. He was making a complete ass of himself, blurting out his words and stumbling over his explanation, and she was _enjoying_ it? For Christ's sake, _she _had instigated it by kissing him, and now she was enjoying watching him squirm? _Women_, he thought. He would never understand. "Well?" he asked, trying not to sound impatient. If he had made a mistake, he just wanted to be out of here. And if he hadn't – well, if he hadn't, he could think of far better things to be doing with his time then standing in her entry.

"Yes," she said. "Yes, I'll be your girlfriend." God, it all sounded so high school and completely lacking in the finesse that she had expected of a born-and-bred city boy like Jack, and yet – it felt so perfect. Two people being upfront with what they wanted – it was refreshing.

Jack, with his deeply ingrained sense of honesty and loyalty, could make her very happy, she thought. And it wasn't even that it was the type of person that he was - it was that he was _him_, Jack Quade, someone she had fallen deeply in love with without intending to, actually having intended to do the opposite. And yet here they were.

She was in love with him. And he was in love with her. Or at least, he had feelings for her – genuine, honest feelings. God, just _thinking_ about it exhilarated her.

His face broke into a smile, the smile that she had grown to love seeing it the past few weeks. "Yeah?" he asked.

She nodded. "Yeah?"

It was strange and awkward and stilted, and yet it was the most exhilarating thing of his life. "Well, then –" he said, and he leaned in to kiss her.

She had been expecting him to kiss her, and they had kissed before, and yet when he did it, it was the most amazing, thrilling thing she had ever experience. She felt hold and cold and shaky and steady at the same time. She wrapped her arms around Jack's neck and pushed herself against him. He felt strong, and in more than just a physical way. "Jack," she whispered his name between kisses. "This is the best thing that's ever happened to me."

"I know exactly how you feel," he said as he swung her into his arms like the romantic hero in a movie.

8


End file.
